Sincerely, Skyrim
by AessaTheCurious
Summary: In which the Dragonborn decides she wouldn't be in such a predicament if she didn't have the soul of a dragon. Rated M for future twists that may or may not occur.


_Ugh… My head… What happened last night?_

She opened her eyes slightly, squinting. _This migraine is going to kill me… where am I?_

"So you're finally awake, Khajiit."

Opening her eyes fully, she looked around. A blond Nord sat across from her, his hands bound. Next to her sat another, and beside the Nord slouched a Redguard. The latter was sulking, looking at his feet.

"You tried to get across the border, right? And walked smack into the middle of that ambush, same as us and that horse thief over there."

The grey Khajiit nodded blearily. Her hands, too, were bound together. Noticing the weathered, uncomfortable wagon they were travelling in, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"To Helgen," the man across from her stated.

The tanned Redguard grumbled, "If you _Stormcloaks_ hadn't stirred up the Empire, the Imperials would have been nice and lazy. If not for that ambush, I would be halfway to Hammerfell with that horse. Khajiit—you and me. We shouldn't be here."

"We're all together now, thief," the Nord grunted.

The horse thief continued to mumble angrily under his breath as the Nord turned his attention back to her. "I am called Ralof."

She simply nodded in reply, watching the trees and the snow go by. It was freezing in this place—nothing like the warmth of Elsweyr she would now give an arm to feel. The frigid air stung her eyes and her nose. Her clouded leopard fur kept her warm, but the cold still bit her skin. She curled her rosette-dotted tail around her naked knees and calves to trap heat.

"And you—what is wrong with you?" the horse thief asked the gagged man.

"Be careful what you say, horse thief," Ralof warned. "That is Ulfric Stormcloak you're speaking to, the true High King."

The Khajiit swiveled her ears towards the conversation. _The True High King… hm… _She angled her head and studied "the True High King" out of the corner of her eye. He was pale, like Ralof, but unlike Ralof, his posture was rigid. He had a steely courage about him, she could tell; he didn't seem resigned like the rest of them. If he was going to be punished, he would face it with dignity. It could be seen in his detached blue eyes.

She sighed as the caravan of prisoners rolled into a town. It was small and slightly run down, with buildings made of wood or stone. The gate glided by overhead, its wooden doors swung wide open to welcome those who were sentenced to punishment; though, what this punishment was, she wasn't sure. The wagons soon slid to a stop in a perfect line.

"Why are we stopping? What is this?" the horse thief asked, fear evident in his voice.

"Why do you think? End of the line," Ralof replied gravely.

"Oh no… Divines, please help me!" he moaned. The four prisoners stood in unison, jumping off the back of the vehicle in single file as Imperials called the names of the Stormcloaks in attendance. Soon, everyone stood in front of the chopping block. That is, everyone except the Khajiit.

"Who… are you?" an Imperial with a quill pen and scroll asked.

"I am Agedele, a Khajiit hailing from Elsweyr," she announced. Her calm voice pierced the cool, silent air like a knife as her golden eyes glinted in the snowy light.

The Imperial looked down at the scroll, then up at Agedele. He consulted with his commander, and she perked her ears to listen to the conversation.

"She's not on the list. What do we do?" he asked her.

"Forget the list," the commander growled. "To the block with her."

Resentfully, Agedele marched to the execution block, where everyone waited. At the same time, Lokir, the Redguard horse thief, bolted. He sprinted back the way the prisoners had entered, screaming, "No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

"Archers!" the commander yelled forcefully. Agedele, Ralof, and the rest of the prisoners watched as Lokir was shot down before their eyes. He was dead before he hit the ground.

"Anyone _else_ feel like running?" the commander barked. The prisoners around the Khajiit looked at each other meaningfully before returning their attention to the execution. Agedele's eyes lingered on the thief's body a little longer.

A name was called, and a man trudged up to the block. He fell to his knees in front of the stump, and an Imperial guard pushed him down further.

"Any last words?"

"My ancestors are smiling down on me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" the man said furiously. Agedele averted her eyes as the axe came down upon the man's neck. His head fell into a box at the base of the stump.

"Next: Agedele of Elsweyr!"

She cringed and hissed under her breath. _So this is how I will die._ It wasn't the noblest of deaths, but at least S'rendarr would take mercy on her soul. Hesitating before she sauntered to her death, she threw a glance toward Ralof. _Help me._ His expression softened in return, as if to say, _I'm sorry._

She, too, kneeled at the chopping block. Agedele laid her face upon the stump. If she had any regrets, she'd better make peace with herself now.

A deafening roar sounded through the air, but it sounded far. "What was that?" a startled voice cried.

"Nothing. Carry on," the commander said. Agedele watched the executioner raise his axe over his head in preparation, and she braced herself for the impact, wondering if it would be painful. Suddenly, a dragon—a living, breathing dragon—slammed down on top of the guard tower. The earth shook. The fearsome beast looked her in the eye as it roared once more. She reveled in its might.

It opened its mouth wider and bellowed in an unfamiliar language. The Khajiit was blasted back by the Shout, tumbling several feet from where she had been kneeling. She hit her head on the ground as she landed on her back, and her vision grew dark and unfocused. Someone pulled her to her feet and helped her stagger away from the attack.

"Come with me, Khajiit. This is our chance to escape," Ralof uttered in her ear. She stumbled after him, shaking her head to try to clear her eyesight. The pair ducked into a stone structure, meeting Ulfric inside as well as a few other prisoners. She doubled over, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. _That was close…_ She had seen the angry glitter in the eyes of the beast.

"Is this even possible? I mean, I thought dragons were just a legend!" exclaimed Ralof.

Ulfric replied, "Legends don't burn down villages."

Agedele's vision had cleared. She blinked and straightened, looking around the structure. An injured prisoner sat against the wall, another tending to her wounds. Ulfric was standing next to the door, and Ralof was next to him. She eyed him expectantly.

"We have to get out of here," he decided. "Follow me, Khajiit."

They were halfway up the stairs when the dragon bashed its head through the wall on the next floor and sprayed fire inside throughout, killing the Stormcloak who had been standing next to the wall. She cried out—whether in anger or in fear, she wasn't sure. The dragon locked eyes with her once more for a second before withdrawing and resuming its pillaging.

Ralof looked through the gaping hole. "Do you see that building?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders. She nodded, peering down at the house that was missing part of its roof. Beyond the ruined home, she glimpsed residents, soldiers, and prisoners attempting to find an escape. A horse galloped aimlessly around in terror as people burned to ashes or were crushed under the beast's might.

"Leap down to there and I'll follow in a minute. Just keep moving."

He ran back down the stairs to fetch Ulfric and the others. Though her heart was afraid and her wrists were still tied, she mounted her courage and vaulted to the lower floor. She had miscalculated the landing, jumping down on her ankle. The Khajiit dropped to the floor, moaning in pain. The dragon's howl sounded, nearer than she had imagined. She rolled onto her stomach, climbing to her feet.

A ledge appeared before her eyes as a corner of the house was ripped away. The great, scaly beast appeared once again before her. She hid behind a wooden support beam to escape detection, breathing hard as she heard its scales clicking together. A ball of fire blasted towards the roof, setting the thatched roof aflame as the dragon backed out.

Agedele limped toward the staircase, galloping down. The wood splintered under her wait slightly as she descended. She escaped the burning building in time to see Imperial soldiers being savaged by the dragon's sharp teeth. Others stood back, keeping their distance. A child and an Imperial were hiding behind the ruins of a building, watching for their next chance at escape. Crouching, the Khajiit approached.

"Still alive, prisoner?" a voice rasped from behind.

She whirled around. An Imperial general stood behind her, sword drawn. "Follow me if you want to stay that way."

He crept toward an alleyway. She snuck after him, her lame ankle hindering her ability to go undetected. The general looked back at her, noticing her limp. "We'll fix that when we get to safety. For now, stay close to the wall."

They inched along the alleyway as the dragon raged above them. It soon spilled out into a courtyard; across from them stood a barracks. The way was almost completely clear except for one man.

Standing in their way was Ralof, who stared them down from the center of the yard.

"You Khajiit traitor," he spat at Agedele. She flinched at his words and looked away. "And you, Hadvar—we were as brothers. I am in disbelief that you joined the Empire!"

"I talked about it all my life, and you're surprised?" Hadvar snarled. "Get out of our way and I will let you live to see another day!"

Grimacing reluctantly, Ralof complied. "You have not seen the last." He disappeared through an archway to the right of the pair, finding another way out.

Hadvar turned to her. "We won't be able to make it across the courtyard with your lame leg," he commented.

"What do you propose we do, then?" she asked sarcastically.

Instead of replying, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and threw her over his shoulder. The Khajiit struggled uselessly. "Hey! I do _not_ approve of this! This is no way to treat a woman!" she protested, though she did her best to keep her tail out of her face.

"Shush, Khajiit!" Hadvar hissed. He scampered straight through the dirt yard, dodging random clumps of grass and rocks that jutted out of the ground.

Agedele's screeches had attracted the dragon. As it dove down for an aerial assault, the tune she whistled began to change. "Gogogogogogogo!" she squealed. He tackled the heavy door, busting it open with his shoulder. Throwing her safely inside, he closed and locked the door behind him. She landed on her rump, dazed, as he painstakingly pulled beds and other furniture in front of the entryway. The door pulsated with the dragon's attacks.

Hadvar leaned over her, taking out a dagger. _This is it. I'm so dead._ She braced herself for sharp pain, closing her eyes, but none came; instead, her bindings had been cut off. The Khajiit rubbed her wrists, relieved.

"Go search the chests for armor and weapons you can use," Hadvar told her gruffly. "Then we can use your foot wraps for your ankle. She nodded and began rummaging through the chests in the room, the pads of her feet making soft noise against the mossy stone floor. Donning the light armor she'd found, she handed the foot wraps to the general.

"No weapons?"

"I couldn't find any," she said quietly. He simply grunted, wrapping her ankle for support. They both stood, approaching the other door.

"Luckily for us, the barracks were built with an escape route." He pulled a chain to open the portal and the pair advanced down the increasingly dark hallway. They soon came to another room, circular in structure, where a couple of Stormcloaks had escaped into.

"What are we going to do?" she asked. "We can't just sneak past."

"We kill them," Hadvar whispered back.

_Killing isn't my forte,_ she thought, but she held her tongue.

Instead, she nodded, steeling her nerve. Unsheathing her claws, Agedele charged into the room, jumping on the back of one of the two. She scrabbled around on his face with her claws, doing more damage with every contact. He struggled, finally managing to throw her off, and drew his bow. His partner, however, had beaten him to it. She slammed down on Agedele's shoulder with the hilt of her sword, effectively stunning her. The Khajiit staggered back, throwing up her arms as a shield. The Stormcloak woman slashed at her forearms with the iron sword. Agedele kicked out with a leg, catching her opponent in the shin. She used the pause in the attacker's rhythm to tackle the woman in a frenzy, lacerating the woman. Hadvar entered the fray with an Imperial sword, slicing through the other man's armor right through to the skin. The Stormcloak fell to his hands and knees in pain, trying to escape, but the Imperial finished him off.

Meanwhile, Agedele had delivered a final blow to the woman's throat, effectively ending her life. She frowned in disgust as she took the woman's bag. The Khajiit dumped out everything but the most useful items, then took the man's bow and arrows. She strapped the quiver to her back, keeping the bow drawn.

"I hate hand-to-hand combat," she lamented. Hadvar nodded in understanding, and they exited the stone room.

Later, as they came to yet another wooden door, the ground began to rumble. Pebbles and dirt poured down from the ceiling and onto their heads. They retreated back, watching the ceiling guardedly. Suddenly, sizable boulders crashed to the ground, piling up in a rockslide. The dragon's voice could be heard faintly.

Hadvar growled in frustration. "_Now_ what?"


End file.
